


Her Cafe

by mochaphile



Series: A Mother's Touch [Batmom One Shots] [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochaphile/pseuds/mochaphile
Summary: You're not always in your café. But, when you are, your family will always find the time to stop by.
Relationships: Batman/Reader, Batman/You, Bruce Wayne/Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne/Reader, Bruce Wayne/You
Series: A Mother's Touch [Batmom One Shots] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186853
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Her Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stress enough how little Batmom stories exist. So, here's a little fluff for a change.  
> Thank you so much for reading <3

**Bruce Wayne **

You're not sure how long you've been at the register, half-listening to the customer drop pick-up lines after pick-up lines to you. You had a good sense of humor. Hell, Dick and Tim learned their puns from you!

But right now, you knew the man in front of you was nothing but trouble. Worst of all, you couldn't do anything about it. Not unless he decided to lay his hands on you and thankfully, he hasn't done that.

Sadly, that only meant smile respectfully even if it meant gritting your teeth. 

You recognized the man as one of Bruce's clients, Montgomery. He reeked of cheap cologne and bad businesses. Maybe things didn't go so well for him and your husband. 

You're dreading for one of your employees to put you out of your misery. Giving them a side glance, you saw them shivering in one group. One of them got yelled at by Montgomery not too long ago for interrupting. 

"Mr. Montgomery, for the last time, I won't go on a date with you. I'm a married woman and a mother, after all," You knew he turned a deaf ear at your words and scoffed. 

"Right, and what's ol' Bruce going to tell ya?

"I mean, I won't tell _her_ anything, to be honest," You smirked once Montgomery's face paled, looking as if he might faint, hearing the voice of the one and only.

You peeked behind the sleazy man, seeing Bruce mirroring a similar smirk, but his eyes darkened. Your employees already ran to the kitchen, watching the tension unfold through the small window.

" _You_ , my friend, on the other hand," Bruce tutted, "I don't know if I can continue that project of yours," 

"Wooah, wait, wait," Montgomery laughed nervously, shrinking once he faced him, "Come on, pal, I'd never lay a finger on her. Cross my heart. Plus, I've only told you half of my plan. I'll make the other half worth your time," 

Bruce pretended to think for a moment.

"Sure, it wouldn't hurt to give a second thought," He shrugged nonchalantly. By now, you've moved away from the cashier, standing close to Bruce, "I'll see you in the office at 3, alright? I just need to talk to my wife for a moment," 

Montgomery didn't wait to answer and made a beeline for the exit with his now-cold cup of latte. You closed your eyes, sighing in relief. Before you could even thank your savior, he wrapped his arm around your waist — almost possessively. 

"Your knuckles were white, y'know," He hid his face in your neck, breath hitched once you felt his hot breath, "I'm sure he could've handled a punch or three, would've been nice," 

He meant to say _hot_ but that'll do.

You clicked your tongue, but not out of annoyance.

"And risk our little safe haven? Please," You and Bruce watched as Montgomery nearly tripped, trying to cross the road, "You're not approving his idea, are you?"

"Absolutely not," You could've sworn he growled under his breath, wrapping his other arm around your front. You're glad the others are in the kitchen. Even so, you could feel your face grow hotter. 

You hid your face in your hands, his low chuckle never failed to send shivers down your spine.

Knowing he's the only one that could make you this flustered mattered more than even the most expensive of projects he's done.

You've given him love, sanity and most importantly; _hope_. There's no way he's letting some good-for-nothing egomaniac go anywhere close to him and especially you.

**Dick Grayson **

"You sure she won't mind?" Barbara asked for the umpteenth time, causing Dick to sigh for the same amount. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders with a reassuring smile.

"I'm positive. In fact, she's likely to put me in a chokehold if I didn't say hi in the first place," Barbara's not sure if he's kidding or reminiscing in fear.

Surprisingly, Barbara has never been to Mother's Touch. Now that she thought about it, she's not sure why. Just days ago, she confessed to Dick how she's never stepped into the cafe. The one thing she had before was your soufflé pancakes her father once brought home and _holy shit_.

 _That was the greatest thing since sliced bread_.

Even Dick's offended gasp was too embarrassing for her. He swore to bring her _as soon as possible_. He made a mental note to bring her during non-peak hours so you two could meet. He's been meaning to see you too anyway. He's just praying you're not going to embarrass him _too much_.

The bell of the front door chimed once Dick pushed the door open, and they were immediately greeted with the smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries. Automatically, their shoulders relaxed, and whatever unnecessary worries they had before just vanished. 

So it _is_ true; your problems _really do_ just vanish when you step in.

Barbara couldn't help but marvel at the aesthetics of the cafe. They were much different from a lot of the cafes in the city; dull, dark, and just plain sad. Yours was bright from the natural light coming from the giant windows, and customers looked more alive. Dick looked over to Barbara and couldn't help but smile at her look of appreciation. It's the same look of wonder when he first stepped in.

The coffee shop was identical to those South Korean cafes and their too-good-to-be-eaten cakes you'd see online. 

He escorted her to the window seat, also known as the _best seat of the shop_. Barbara's eyes sparkled as she scanned through the single-page menu. Even the menu was interesting!

Dick chuckled before squinting his eyes at the counter, hoping to find a certain (H/C)-haired woman walking around. He perked up once he saw you stepped out of the storage room and raised his hand for your attention. Your neutral expression quickly turned into a beaming smile as soon as your eyes laid on him and approached the table.

"Well, well, if it isn't my lil' Dickie," You _purposely_ teased, seeing that he has company. His jaw dropped before hiding his face behind the menu. Barbara, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare at you.

She's seen you countless times on the media, but seeing you up-close was a whole different experience. She has to know whatever your secret is to look this young, even in your thirties. It's no wonder that Bruce himself couldn't resist. She flushed red once you and her locked eyes, causing you to chortle.

"Now, are you going to introduce the sweetheart to me?" Dick let out a muffled mumbling before moving the menu away from his face. 

"Barbara, this is my mom. Mom, this is Barbara, my study-buddy," He succumbed to your half-smirk. He knows you're not going to let this go for a while. 

"Ah!" You clasped your hands together in elation before whispering to Barbara, "Good to know someone's keeping an eye out for my boy," 

Cue another muffled scream in his sleeves.

"It's finally nice to meet the young Gordon, I'd say, you're prettier than I thought," You held your chin, taking a good look at her. Barbara sputtered, not expecting a slip of compliment. Dick told her a couple of times that you tend to praise others a lot.

When the roles reverse though, you're _almost_ as timid as a mouse. You were humble and he loves that about you.

"Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" You wore your glasses, previously hanging around your neck, before clicking on your pen.

"I can't visit my own mother without a reason?" Dick smiled cheekily, contrasting to the deadpan that you wore out of nowhere.

"Normally, your visits from Bludhaven _have_ a reason, mister," You narrowed your eyes, slowly leaning closer to him. He sunk back in his seat and soon, you were hovering over him. Barbara was trying her best to stifle a laugh,

"Right, well, I'm sure you two study-buddies are busy," You straightened your back, a kind smile making its return.

"I take it that you want the soufflé pancakes, dear?" You turned to Barbara — you've seen her eyeing the pancake category since you started bantering. Barbara couldn't speak for a moment and nodded.

"The one with caramelized bananas, please, and an iced black tea," She requested politely. Dick had his usual order; a beef eggplant panini with iced black tea, too. He never missed a beat when comes to the combo. 

"Alright, you two hang tight, lunch will be ready in a jiffy," You notified them in a sing-song manner before returning to the register. They watched you naturally interacting with the line of customers when a worker needed a hand.

"She's really nice," Barbara spoke softly, but Dick caught every word. _Nice_ was an understatement when it comes to you but he has to wholeheartedly agree. No matter how shy he gets for being babied, he won't ever love you any less for it.

** Jason Todd **

You trudged to the final window blind, despite your muscles screaming in agony. Rush hour on Mondays is always a pain in the ass, and today was no different. Keeping a smile, dealing with rude customers, and working back and forth between the kitchen and the cashier was already a workout. Even so, you had the heart to tell your employees that you'll close the shop on your own. They've helped you with most of the cleaning duties, so that's good.

You paused, hearing a shuffling in the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, only to see a red-hooded man jumping over the counter.

"I just cleaned that, you know," _That's a lie._ Your barista did but now _you_ have to wipe, "Bad boy or not, there are rules here, young man," 

Jason grumbled, but instantly shut his mouth when you gave him an _'I dare you'_ look. He raised his hands in defense before removing his helmet, catching your eyes with his all-too-familiar white streak in his hair.

"You're grumpy," He stated as-a-matter-of-fact and took a rag hanging on the coffee machine before wiping the counter that he jumped over.

"You catch on quickly, my boy," With all the windows covered, you took the nearest cushion booth seat and landed on your back. Jason huffed in amusement, seeing your legs flailing around to stretch, "Stopping by the manor today?"

"Nah, sorry," He didn't wish to see the sadness, but he felt your eyes bore onto his back, "Ma, please,"

"I know, I know, my Jay has his work, I'm just messing with ya," Your smile was sincere, but he knows you too well, and so do you. Although his visits were more frequent, that wasn't the case for the manor. Sure, he and Bruce no longer had bad blood, but that didn't mean he'd move back in as if nothing happened, "I saved some bestsellers," 

More often than not, you'd save a box of treats whenever Jason lets you know he's coming. Whether he's sharing with a partner or needs his me-time, you're much more content, knowing he's not walking around with an empty stomach.

He watched you shuffled to the back of the counter before coming back to stand before him with ever-so-familiar pastry packaging.

"Got you some cinnamon buns, I can heat them up if you want?" Your aching body says _no_ , but none of them mattered when it comes to your children. He took the box from your hands before setting it down on the table next to him. Confused, you were about to question him when he suddenly pulled you to his chest, hiding his face in your hair.

It's unusual for Jason to do the honors. Normally, it's _you_ who would ask him for a hug.

"Jay, dear, what's wrong," He shook his head. You immediately understood and began stroking his hair. Being the tallest kid amongst others, you'd have to crane your neck to a better angle so you wouldn't suffocate. 

Reminiscing his time as a kid, wandering around the dangerous streets, cold and starving was inevitable. It's just those days that naturally come up to screw one over. 

Then, he stumbled upon your shop, right when you're about to close. He feared that you've called the cops for watching you in a distance when you walked back in.

You came back out and left a filled-up paper bag on your shop's windowsill before returning home.

He went to his so-called home, weeping as he munched on your leftover sausage buns and egg tarts.

Seeing you again in the Batcave with Bruce was like meeting his guardian angel. Whatever his fate would've been if he never met you was something he'd rather not think about. For now, he's delighted to be in the arms of the woman that brought him back, both figuratively _and_ literally.

** Tim Drake **

"Tim?" He jolted in his seat, a paper stuck to his cheek. He looked around, only to find that he's still in the cafe, "Hey, it's okay, it's just me," 

"Sorry," Tim gave you a bashful smile before yawning. He came in an hour ago from his last class of the day to study. He wanted to greet you first but you were occupied, seeing that it was peak hours. 

Instead, he took a seat and studied for a little bit. He regretted not ordering a cup of Joe beforehand and passed out with his head on his notes. 

You placed a cup of his favorite on the table, and brushed his messy fringe to the side.

"Three cups only, alright?" You reminded — a rule he had to follow since you knew he'd have more at home later at night. 

"Better than none, thanks mom," He took a sip of his coffee and sighed in content. 

He stayed and studied until closing time so you could head home together. Cleaning the shop with you was his favorite, being able to catch-up and occasionally pour his feelings out just _lifted_ the weights off his shoulders. 

School was one thing, but being a vigilante was another. He knew he needed more than caffeine.

Of course, coffee is always a must, but spending even the shortest time with you is irreplaceable. 

** Cassandra Cain **

"I got us a jumbo, so we can share," You carefully placed the vanilla milkshake on the table, further away from Cass's notebook. The noirette looked up, giving you the smallest but thankful smile, "Alright sweetie, I'm ready,"

Usually, Cass's visits on Wednesdays after rush hours were only so she could watch you work. Seeing her effort to stop by, you asked if she could help improve your sign language ability. You couldn't forget the sparkle in her eyes. 

Today, she wrote a little story so you could teach her how to read while she guides you to sign properly.

Ironically, the story consisted of a mother and her daughter. Although it was no more than 500 words, each sentence touched you. 

It wasn't until the final passage that it hit you.

_'I would do anything for her.'_

Your hands froze, unbothered by the tear that dripped down your cheek until you felt her thumb wiping it off. She took your hands hesitantly, almost as if she's afraid you might push her away. You gently took hers in your hands.

You looked up, waiting for Cass's next sign. 

Or words, in this case.

"L-love, mom," She's bashful due to her struggle, but that's enough to make you weep with a smile. 

Sure, the coffee shop never failed to make her feel safe.

But, it's nothing compared to being by your side. 

** Duke Thomas **

Calm and Gotham was nowhere near synonymous, but somehow, the cafe would prove anyone wrong. It was almost magical.

Since he became a part of the Wayne, Duke would stop by every other day, daydreaming at the window counter seating. Watching anyone from the poorest to the richest of men pass by brought peace to his mind. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Duke jumped a little but was immediately brought to a state of tranquility once he recognized the voice. 

"Just enjoying the view, that's all," Getting the idea of your open arms, he reciprocated a hug. 

"I'm a little hurt that you didn't say hello when you came in," You pulled away while pursing your lips, only to find his guilty smile.

"You looked busy in the back, so I didn't wanna interrupt anything," Your expression softened patting his shoulder.

"Duke, I've said it once, and I'll say it again; nothing is more important than my own family. I'll drop everything I'm holding, if it means one of you needs help," While he knew the statement was meant to be serious, Duke couldn't help but chuckle.

"God, please no. _Especially_ if you're holding a hot tray or something," He fears the idea of you dropping a cookie pan drop to the floor just so he could _'hi'_. 

"That _includes_ dropping a pan," You grinned, causing him to groan in his hands, but in reality, he's _grateful_.

If anyone told the younger version of Duke Thomas that he's a metahuman and is soon to be adopted by _the_ Bruce Wayne and his wife, he'd probably just laugh incredulously. Then again, this is Gotham, we're talking about. _Nothing's_ normal in this city.

Yet, he couldn't ask for a better life. Not when he already has one right now.

** Damian Wayne **

"Ummi," You perked up, hearing your youngest called for you. Alfred had just dropped him at the cafe from school but notified you that he wasn't his _usual_. You asked Alfred what it was and he tutted, saying that he _'promised the young master not to tell'_.

"Damien!" You bent over the counter, seeing him rather crestfallen, "Why so glum, dear,"

His body language screamed reluctance, although he tried not to show it. He twiddled his thumbs before asking for your hand. You did as you were told, walking around the counter so both of you could sit at the corner seat meant for employees. He placed his school bag on the table, silence filling the table.

"Damien?" You said his name in the softest tone you could muster. You assumed the worst — some kid bullying him for his race _again_. As much as you disliked Talia, there's no way in hell that you would ever bring race, ethnicity, religion, or anything similar into the argument, "Is someone tormenting you again?"

You raised your eyebrows when he shook his head. He slowly took a folded piece of paper out of his bag before passing it to you with his head down.

You eyed him suspiciously before unfolding the mystery paper. It was his Science paper.

He got a B+.

"This... this is amazing!" You exclaimed and wore your glasses before flipping through the pages. Most of his mistakes still made sense to you, even if they weren't the answer, "Not even a B — a B _plus_ ,"

"But," He interjected, "I had an A _plus_ for the previous exam," He hasn't had the chance to study as much as he wanted to due to sleepless nights, "I'm no longer sure if I can even be the first in class anymore,"

You lowered his paper, registering his words in surprise before shaking your head with an amused smile. You stood from your seat and kneeled in front of Damien.

"Is this what it's all about? Damien, your exams don't necessarily define you. First place or not, you're still my smart cookie,"

"The grade says it all!" He slouched in his seat, "I'm failing everyone,"

You tutted before gently lifting his chin, "You? Failing? Never. I know you Damian, and I have no doubt that you've tried your very best. Your exams don't always define you. I'm proud of you nonetheless, and I will never love you any less. If anything, you've earned my love even more,"

His face hardened before giving you small defeated smile, relishing in your praises, even if he felt like it wasn't meant for him at first.

His birth mother would do the absolute worst to him for doing _anything_. He once missed his momentum and never got a distinction. The consequences were _indescribable_.

He presumed you'd do the same too, even after all those months living with you, filled with nothing but peace and support.

Instead, here you were, praising him as if he won the Nobel Prize. His body was stiff ever since the drive with Alfred, although the butler told him time and time again that his results were immaculate.

"Congratulations to my smart boy!" You stood up, "As a present, I'll make you anything you want for lunch," 

His usual spirit came back before requesting you a vegetarian mozzarella and tomato panini. You thought he'd ask you to make something that's _not_ on the menu, but what the boy wants, the boy gets!

** Alfred Pennyworth **

"Soo, cream cake or tiramisu?" You watched Alfred squint his eyes, pondering between the two flavors. Every month, Alfred would come over to help you pick the best menu as seasonal bestsellers. 

He must be a psychic because whatever choices he made would sell like hotcakes. 

You've done this monthly meet-up six months after you and Bruce started dating. You wanted to spend more time with the father-figure, thus, the suggestion came out of the blue.

The first time he asked why him of all people, all you answered was _'there's no other man of wisdom that I trust more than you'_. 

He kept that quote like a plaque in his mind. 

"I would prefer the cream cake. We're close to the strawberry season," Behind him, was your only baker, jotting down Alfred's points, "It would go well with a cold brew or Darjeeling," 

Your barista scribbled in his book, silently agreeing with the butler.

"Well, you heard him," Your barista and baker playfully saluted before making a beeline for their stations. "Thank you so much, Alfred. My team and I are thankful to have a professional with us," 

"No, Mistress (L/N), I should be the one thanking you. It's nice to go out and see the nicer parts of Gotham once in a while," Alfred laughed — taking care of six children _(and probably counting)_ and a sometimes-brooding adult is more than a handful. 

If it wasn't for that little patience of yours — one that nearly all Gotham locals failed to have, he's not sure what lies for the future of the Wayne household. 


End file.
